


Catching Smoke

by coldfireheart



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, There will be smut at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:31:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4671851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldfireheart/pseuds/coldfireheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm really really bad at summaries but basically this is a fic about Steve and Bucky being reunited. Post CA: TWS and doesn't follow Civil War. Comments and Kudos are appreciated :) (sorry for any typing errors or mistakes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first Stucky fic I've posted, hopefully I did my super boyfriends justice. More chapters to come in the near future.

           The phone call had woken him out of restless sleep. Not that it took very much to wake Steve up these days. He never slept more than two or three hours a day. And even when he did, it never felt like enough. He was always some measure of tired.

       That being said, it was fairly nondescript Thursday. Steve went for his morning run. He met Natasha for coffee. He’d got home from helping Sam at the VA, reheated some leftover takeout for dinner, not that he actually tasted much. Most of the eating he did was simply out of need. But that seemed to be the way of things for Steve right now. Nothing held any draw to him, not anymore. Not since waking up in that hospital bed.

       He had been searching, fuck he had been trying so hard. But nothing ever panned out. Chasing after Bucky was like chasing a ghost, trying to catch smoke and hold it in your hands. But Steve would be damned if he quit trying. He couldn’t. He’d spend weeks at a time chasing leads that led him nowhere, disappearing to some remote part of the world trying to catch Bucky. It felt like losing your mind, that was the only way Steve could explain it. He hadn’t really opened up to many people about the whole thing, but there was one instance where he couldn’t keep up the façade anymore. He’d broken down sitting on the edge of his bed, Natasha rubbing his back as broken sobs forced their way from his throat.

        _“Even just a glance… Nat I need something. I need to know he’s alive. Even if he doesn’t remember, I need to know he’s still here. Somewhere…” His voice had come out weak and broken, thick with tears. Putting her arm around him, Natasha pulled him into the side of her body and keep rubbing. Nothing she could say would ease this and she knew that, but seeing one of her best friends so broken made her heart twist inside of her chest._

       Things cycled that way for almost a year. Chasing and coming home, breaking and trying to rebuild. If nothing else, Steve could say that for the time being, his world was stable.

       Until the phone rang, that is.

Steve didn’t answer the first time. He jolted a little when he heard the vibration buzzing on the pillow next to him. Rolling over with a grunt, he squinted against the bright light of his iPhone and tried to read the name on the caller ID.

_Unknown._

Steve grumbled a little, slid the lock to reject the call, and flopped back down into the mattress. Damn telemarketers. How the hell did they even get his number anyways? Rubbing the heels over his hands against his tired eyes, still sighed, long and low. Always tired….

There it was again. The phone. Vibrating again. Again, with no indication as to who was trying so damn hard to reach him. Steve thought about answering for a minute but again, slide the marker on the screen to reject and set the phone down again. He lay on his back for a little while longer, staring at the ceiling. Any hope he hand of falling back asleep was long gone now.

With a little effort, Steve sat up and climbed out of bed. Phone in hand, he padded down to the kitchen. It wasn’t that he was actually hungry of course, but movement helped. Sitting in the dark bedroom alone would only lead to his mind running away with itself. And Steve didn’t need that right now.

Eventually he settled on pouring himself a glass of milk. Steve leaned with both hands on the counter, staring out of the small window over the kitchen sink. Brooklyn was shining brightly against the backdrop of the ink colored sky. But just as Steve felt himself drifting away into his thoughts, something snapped him back to earth.

Again, his phone vibrated as a stranger tried to get through to him. Grumbling in the back of his throat, Steve reached over and snatched up the phone, finally pressing accept.

“Hello? Who is this and how did you get this number?” He couldn’t help the borderline sharp tone that edged his words.

There was silence on the other end of the connection but Steve could tell there was someone there. Small intakes of breath, barely shaking but still audibly unstable. And if Steve hadn’t been pressing the phone so hard to his ear, hadn’t been listening so intently, he would’ve missed it. But the voice there was immediately recognizable.

“...S-steve?”

His blood ran cold and the glass that was in his hand fell and shattered around his feet, broken glass and milk spreading over the tile floor. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Air refused to move through his lungs and he had to grip the edge of the sink to not fall over.

“Bucky?” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

* * *

 Bucky shivered hard and tried to pull his jacket tighter around his body. Not that it did much good now, all his clothes were torn to shit. The night air bit into him like needles and he tried not to let his teeth chatter. He clutched his numb fingers around the scrap of paper. He couldn’t lose this. He’d already lost everything else. If he could just managed to do this right, he might have a chance…

He’d noticed the pay-phone as he was walking. In the months he’d spent wondering, Bucky had managed to figure a few things out. And he knew this is what he needed to find. Ducking across the street, Bucky huddled in close to the machine, trying to garner any warmth or escape from the wind that he could find.

The redheaded woman’s voice echoed in his mind.

_“He needs you. Call him. If he doesn’t answer, keep trying.” she had whispered, pressing the paper into his hand, before disappearing into the darkness of the alleyway again. Bucky was turning away when he heard her voice one more time. “Good to see you, Barnes.”_

Sucking in a breath, Bucky tried to dial. He had to retry three times for the shaking of his hands. But once he finally got it right, he clutched at the receiver, the dial tone harsh against his ears.

“You’ve reached Steve Rogers. Sorry I missed your call but leave me a message and I’ll call you back.”

Hearing the voice damn near broke Bucky. His body wracked with a rough and silent sob. Setting the phone back in it’s cradle, he had to lean against the metal frame of the payphone to collect himself again. Had to keep trying…

Again he dialed, and again the sound of Steve’s voice from the answering machine shook him to his very core. He was crying in earnest now. Tears streamed down his face and left messy trails through the dirt on his cheeks.  Slowly lowering himself to the pavement, Bucky sat with his knees drawn up to his chest.

“Pathetic…”  he thought to himself .Sniffling and dirty, sitting on the sidewalk. Confusion and self-hatred swirled in his mind and everything felt fuzzy and edgeless. He didn’t like it. Nothing was clear, solid. Nothing was real. He had to try again. The woman had said so. And Steve would know what to do. He always did.

Raising up to his knees, Bucky dialed again, hands shaking harder.

One dial tone. Two. Three.

“Hello? Who is this and how did you get this number?” Bucky froze. The voice that met his ears was clearly exhausted and annoyed. But it was Steve. His Steve. Bucky felt his chest constrict tightly, fresh tears rolling down to his chin. He opened his mouth to try and respond, but all he could do was draw in shallow shaking breaths. And the voice that finally escaped his lips didn’t sound like his own. The voice that he heard was something weak and broken.

“...S-steve?”

He heard a gasp, the distant sound of shattering glass. The blood left Bucky’s face and he damn near hung up but before he could move he heard his own name in a strained whisper.

“Bucky?”

* * *

 Even with all his years in combat, Steve can't remember a time he’d ever moved that fast in his life. Phone still pressed flush to the side of his face, he lept over the mess on the floor and darted up the stairs for his shoes. He did his best to keep his voice calm and even, not wanting to panic Bucky before he even saw him.

“Bucky… god Bucky I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for but those were the words that tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Buck where are you? Are you hurt? I’m gonna come get you.”

On the other end of the line Bucky was sobbing silently, clutching at the phone for dear life. He couldn’t remember being more scared than he was right now. All at once his reality seemed to crush in on him. Nothing made sense. He was confused and scared and… fuck he just wanted Steve to be there. He opened his mouth to try and speak but only a weak hiccup between sobs made it’s way out.

Steve’s stomach was turning in knots as he tugged on his jacket. “Bucky…” Steve almost called him baby but bit off the word. Not yet. “Bucky I need you to tell me where you, okay? Look around you, find a street sign and tell me what it says. Do you see any buildings you recognize around you?” As he asked these questions, he was getting into the car. Thankfully, the Bluetooth system paired automatically and he was able to let the phone fall into his lap. But just before he made to pull out of the driveway, he snatched the phone up again and sent Natasha a message. It was a miracle that he words were actually english given how bad his hands were shaking.

_**Nat he called me. It’s him. I’m gonna go find him. Oh my god Nat it’s him.** _

He hit send right as Bucky’s shaking voice filled his car. “Th-there’s...there’s a Monroe Street. And I think...Gates...” His voice sounded unsure. “I think there’s a church” Steve damn near pealed out of the driveway.

“Alright Buck. I know right where you are. I need you to stay on the phone with me, okay? I’m coming to get you but I need you to stay on with me. Can you do that?” He did a good job of masking the sheer flood of emotions running through him right now. His calm steady voice was a stark contrast to the shaking that was wracking him right now.

Bucky nodded and it took a minute for it to dawn on him that Steve couldn’t actually hear him nod.

“Bucky?”

He shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts a little bit. “M’here.” he mumbled, sitting back down on the curb, still holding tightly to the phone. He was shivering again, suddenly hyperaware of how damn cold he was. Arms wrapped tightly around himself, he tried to stop the stupid tears from falling. He felt irrationally embarrassed all of the sudden. What is Steve going to think?

It took Steve about twenty minutes to make the trip that should’ve taken him forty-five. Most of the drive Bucky was silent, except for answering Steve when he’d ask if Bucky was still with him. Steve’s heart rate seemed to increase in tandem with how close he was to where Bucky was supposed to be.

As he approached the intersection that Buck had given him, he dimmed his headlights and strained his eyes to see into the dark. It was almost 3am at this point. He was the only car in sight.

“Bucky, do you see me anywhere? White car. I’m look-” his voice caught and his heart damn near stopped.

Bucky.

Steve saw him, sitting small and pulled in against himself. Their eyes met through the windshield and Steve killed the headlights so he wouldn’t blind him. Turning the cars off, Steve drew in a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. Again, he grabbed his phone. Nat had responded.

_**Be careful Steve. He’s scared. Call me if you need anything.** _

Steve tucked the phone into the front pocket of his jeans. With another deep breath, he slowly climbed out of the car. Bucky was standing now, phone hanging off it’s hook. Steve approached him slowly, hands held out in front of him.

“Bucky…” the name came out in a broken whisper.

And then something happened. Something in Bucky broke.

Bucky took three normal steps before breaking into a run. And he slammed into Steve with the such force that it knocked the wind out of him. He was sobbing roughly, clutching to Steve like a scared child.

Steve was shocked silent for a minute. This wasn’t a dream. This was real. Bucky was dirty and broken and sobbing. But he was _here_. He was _real_.

Slowly wrapping his arms around him, Steve pulled Bucky impossibly closer to his body. As if there was any space in between them, something would come in between them again. Silent tears fell as Steve buried his face into Bucky’s hair, breathing him in.

His voice was quiet. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

Stable wasn’t a word that could be used to describe his life anymore. But for the first time, he felt like he was whole. The tightness in his chest was finally gone and he could breath.

 


	2. Long Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHH for all of the like six people that have read this I am so sorry this took so long. My life has been super crazy and stressful but things have finally calmed down and I'm in a much better place so I'm gonna try and write more often!

Steve wasn’t sure how long they stood there, crying and holding each other. But at some point he became aware of just how hard Bucky was shivering. Moving his hands to Buck’s shoulders, Steve leaned back a little to get a better look at him. Steve did his best to keep a straight face but what he saw made his stomach drop into his feet.

When they were kids, Steve was always drawn to the way Bucky’s face seemed to shine. It didn’t matter what was going on, Bucky always seemed to shine. But what he saw in front of him was such a far cry from the young man he remembered that Steve had to search Bucky’s eyes for a moment. The person standing in front of him looked like something out of ghost story. His face was dull and dirty and streaked with tears, eyes framed with dark circles. Buck seemed so much skinnier than Steve remembered.

It was a minute before Steve found his voice. “We’re gonna go back to my house, does that sound okay? Get you cleaned up and warm.” he said with a little smile but it faltered as he watched his friend. Bucky was still gripping tight to Steve’s arms, scared eyes darting around rapidly. 

Steve gently rubbed his hands against Bucky’s shoulders. “I promise it’s gonna be okay. I promise.” The words seemed to drill their way into Bucky’s head slowly. After a moment, he nodded and his hands loosened a little. It looked like Bucky was moving through syrup, all of his movements were slow and sluggish. With what seemed like a great amount of effort, he let his hands fall to his sides. 

It seemed like time had lost it’s meaning. Steve couldn’t tell if they stood there for three minutes or three hours, but his eyes roamed over Bucky slowly, carefully making note of any potential injuries he saw. His clothes were tattered and dirty, looked like they were damn near ready to fall apart. But there was no blood anywhere, at least that Steve could see. But his stomach still twisted painfully inside of him. There were bound to be scars. The very act of seeing his best friend, and in some distant part of the past, his lover, so broken like this so enough to make his heart sink.

Keeping all of his movements slow and deliberate, Steve carefully steered Bucky in the direction of the car. It was hard to resist the urge to scoop Bucky into his arms and carry him, watching the way Bucky seemed to stumbled, unsure of each step. But Steve knew that this whole thing was so fragile, he wasn’t about to ruin it by going to fast in any way. The two of them moved together across the small distance but it seemed closer to a mile stretched out in front of them.

Steve opened the passenger side door with one hand, keeping the other securely around Bucky. God he looked so scared… Bucky shook hard as he lowered himself down into the car, keeping on hand clutched to Steve’s arm until he was fully sat down. He seemed all too reluctant to let go. And as soon as the car door was closed Steve damn near sprinted around the car to his side. Getting in, he looked over to find Bucky with his arms drawn tightly around himself, looking around. He flinched a little when Steve started the car, the noise making him jump a little.

“Hey...it’s alright here, I promise.” Steve spoke softly, shrugging out of his jacket and handing it across to Bucky. Shaking hands held the fabric for a minute before slowly pulling it over himself, like a blanket. The warmth… the smell… the knot in his chest didn’t seem so tight now. Even when he had nothing else in his mind, Bucky would remember that smell. Warm and earthy, but clean at the same time. 

Even with that small bit of comfort, Bucky was able to relax a little. Steve forced himself to drive at a reasonable speed back to his apartment. And even though he was sweating bullets, Steve kept the heater turned on to try and alleviate the shivering from the seat next to his. It was late September now and already freezing at night once the sun went down. He couldn’t help but wonder how many nights Bucky had spent outside, alone. His stomach flipped again.

The drive was mostly silent, save for Steve asking Bucky occasionally if he was alright.There were no verbal responses, only slow nods. The weight of his exhaustion seemed to be crushing in on him now. Bucky struggled to keep his eyes open. Between the warmth, the smell, and the gentle motion of the car, he could’ve passed out right there. Yet he forced himself to stay conscious out of some unknown fear. If he closed his eyes, Steve could be gone again. Bucky had to force that thought away as he felt constricting panic start to build in his chest. With a little bit of a push, Bucky sat up a little straighter and rubbed his eyes. Steve glanced over quietly, but didn’t say anything. 

To be quite honest, it was all Steve could do not to start crying right there. The sense of relief that washed over his was so great it felt like waves crashing in his chest. But there was fear there too, almost in equal measure. He wasn’t stupid; of course he didn’t expect the man sitting next to him to be the same one he’d lost that day in the mountains, but this was such a great distance from the friend he remembered. Would this even work? Did Bucky have enough of himself left to come back to life? Steve didn’t know but he did know that he was going to try. He’d swore he’d give anything for Bucky years ago in that burning building. And he meant it.

Turning into the driveway, Steve parked and took out his phone and quickly fired off another text to Natasha.

**_Back home. He’s exhausted. I’ll keep you updated. Can you let the others know?_ **

Then he turned to Bucky. 

“My apartment is just up the one flight of stairs, okay?” Buck nodded slowly, pushing himself to sit up more. 

Steve got out of the car and came around to help. Bucky swayed a little on his feet but managed to stay upright as he stood up. Steve kept his hands out in case he needed to catch him. After a few minutes, Bucky gave him a small nod and Steve closed the car door and very cautiously took Bucky’s flesh hand in his own. He kept his grip light, easy for Buck to pull away if he wanted to. But he didn’t.

The trek back up the stairs was a slow one. Bucky struggled lifting his feet after the first half but did his best to hide it. He was exhausted but he knew he had to keep moving. He pulled Steve’s coat tighter against his body and trudged on. Steve kept close, holding Bucky’s hand and keeping the other arm out in case he needed to use it. 

After what seemed like an impossible amount of time, Steve fumbled around with his keys, trying to unlock the door without letting go of Bucky. It took a moment of struggle but Steve finally got the door open and helped Bucky inside. The kitchen light was still on, milk drying around the broken shards of glass on the floor. He made a mental note to clean that up later. He kept his movements slow as he brought Bucky to the couch and helped him sit. He looked at his lap for a minute before slowly lifting his eyes and looking up at Steve. He spoke again, for the first time since Steve had found him.

“You live alone here?”

“Yep.” Steve nodded, turning and locking the door. “Just me. And the fish.” He offered a small smile, trying to coax Bucky out of his shell. He nodded in the direction of a small fish tank on a stand under the window. Both Sam and Natasha had been nagging him for weeks on end to get a pet when he first got this place. So Steve conceded in the most passive aggressive manner he could think of and got a betta fish. Low maintenance pet that got his friends off his back and doubled as decor for the living room.  

Bucky’s eyes slowly trailed over to where Steve had pointed. All of his movements were slow and labored, but he watched the fish for a minute before turning back to Steve. 

Steve was watching Bucky carefully through the entire exchange. He resisted the urge to acknowledge the creeping sense of hope that was trying to grow in his belly. It had been fifteen minutes. He knew that the journey to getting the Bucky that he remembered back was going to be hard. If it was even possible. The man he’d watched fall from the train might be gone permanently. But there was someone there. There had to be. The Winter Soldier was a ghost. Some remnants of the man had to remain underneath what was left. 

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to proceed from here. Bucky traded off on glancing up at Steve with an unsure look on his face, and looking slowly around the room, as if to map out his surroundings. Even here, where he knew he was safer than he’d been in years. he still couldn’t erase the nagging sense of paranoia, the need to find an exit if he needed one.

“Are you hungry?” Steve’s quiet voice shook Bucky back to the present. It took him a moment to process the question. Hungry. What did that feel like? All the eating he had done over the past few months had been out of necessity. To keep himself alive. But it had been a day or two now since he’d eaten any real food. So he nodded slowly after a moment.

Steve felt himself smiling again. “Alright.” he said with a little nod. “Let me go clean the glass off the floor when I’ll make us something.” he had almost turned but stopped himself. “You can come with me if you want. Or sit here. Whatever you need, okay?”

Bucky nodded again, but he hadn’t really processed the words. 

Steve turned now, moving into the kitchen. Fishing a towel out of one of the drawers. he carefully picked the shards of glass off the tile and wiped up the now half dried puddle of milk. And when he turned to dump the glass into the bin by the sink, he say Bucky was now standing in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning against the door frame. The bags under his eyes stood out even in the dim light of the room. 

“Hey…” Steve set the towel down the counter and slowly came over. “Are you okay? Do you want to go lay down?” he gently reached out and put his hands on Bucky’s arms. He seemed confused by even the simple question. But the swaying seemed to give his answer away.

“Bucky. Let's go lay down, okay? I’ll get you some clean clothes and you can rest. Okay?” He kept his speech slow and simple, not wanting to overwhelm Buck. Steve watched carefully for a response and when he got a slow nod, he nodded in return and gently took Bucky’s arm. With small slow steps, he led his friend to the staircase. Again, the journey up was slow going but eventually the crossed the landing and Steve helped Bucky sit down on the foot of his bed.

Sinking to his knees in front of Bucky, Steve couldn’t help the flash of memory that whipped through his mind. It had been a while since they were in this position and the circumstances couldn’t be more far apart. After a quick mental slap for even letting his mind go in that direction, he looked up a Bucky, one hand a his knee.

“Buck I’m gonna take your shoes off, okay? I’ll help you change your clothes if you want me too but you don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” It was important that he took this as slow as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Buck. 

Bucky nodded slowly, eyelids drooping a little as he watched Steve gently start unlacing his worn boots. Once those were off and carefully set to the side, Steve stood up and gently pushed the dirty jacket off of Bucky’s shoulders. The material was thin and tattered and Bucky was only wearing a ripped tank top underneath. No wonder he was shivering so hard… And now, Steve was able to get a better look at Bucky. 

His metal arm was different than he remembered. Besides the obvious, that the prosthetic wasn’t in a vice grip around Steve’s throat, it seemed beat up, weathered. But what really made his skin crawl was noticing the how red and angry the seam that joined metal and flesh was. Spots appeared to be more fresh than others, in some places the skin had even started to tear. It didn’t take Steve but more than a moment to put two and two together and it made his stomach do somersaults. 

His flesh arm had the occasional bruise, and a few spots of dried blood, but it didn’t look there was any major damage.

“Can I take your shirt off? I’m just gonna make sure you aren’t hurt and get you a clean one to sleep in.” He spoke after a moment, swallowing dryly around the lump in his throat. He had to do his best to keep his voice even for Bucky’s sake. He was given a response in the form of a slow nod.

It took Bucky a minute to process. Shirt off, arms up, have to move. It felt like a monumental effort to even begin to lift his arms up. Thankfully, Steve was there almost instantly, gently lifting Bucky’s arms and easing the shirt up and over his head carefully.

Again, Steve seized the moment to carefully examine Bucky for any signs of injury. A few big purple bruises marred across the plains of his chest. And just like his arms, some of them appeared very recent and others seemed to be a least a few weeks old. Mixed in with the bruises were streaks of dirt and grime.

“Stay right here.” Steve murmured, turning quickly and going into the bathroom. He grabbed the small plastic bucket from under the skin and filled it with warm water and a little soap, and grabbed a washcloth as well. Gathering everything up, Steve snatched a t shirt and a pair of sweatpants from the top of the laundry basket, clean laundry he’d neglected to put away. and came back into the room. Bucky hadn’t moved, was only staring into the spot where Steve had just knelt.

“Hey Buck, it’s okay. I’m right here. I’m gonna clean you up just a little, okay?” Steve moved slow and cautiously, putting himself back into Bucky’s line of sight. And it was almost like having Steve there relaxed him. The tension that had filled Bucky seemed to slowly dissipate. 

“There you go…” He murmured quietly, moving slowly. Steve dipped the cloth into the bucket and wrung it out again before carefully bringing it up to Bucky’s face. He was prepared for a flinch or something but Bucky continued to sit silently, glazed eyes trained on Steve. The cloth made quick work of the thin layer of dirt that had accumulated, the tan skin underneath showing through again. Once his face was looking better, Steve went back to the bucket, and then slowly repeated his ministrations across Bucky’s chest, being mindful of the bruising there. Only when he ghosted over Bucky’s shoulder, the seam between metal and flesh, did Bucky make a movement. And even though it was a small wince, Steve froze in his tracks.

“Bucky?” he asked quietly, pulling away. He was so worried about causing Bucky and distress; it felt like even the slightest error could tear this whole thing down.

Bucky sat quietly for a moment, breathing a little harder than he had been before. After a minute, he nodded slowly. His voice was hoarse when he found words. “I don’t...I don’t like the arm.” he said quietly.

Steve could actually feel his heart shattering. “Bucky…” he swallowed hard but kept going, forcing his voice to stay even. “I don’t blame you. But none of this, nothing was your fault. You’re here. You’re still you.” He put his free hand on Bucky’s knee. “I don’t know where things are going to go from here. But I do know that your past is behind you now. You’re not going back there.”

The words seemed to reach Bucky a little better than the ones Steve had spoken throughout the night so far. And he nodded again, a little stronger.

Offering up a smile, Steve quickly finished cleaning Bucky up and stood up. “Do you want to change your pants?” He held up the folded pair he had brought for him. Bucky nodded and pushed himself to stand. He was so exhausted by now that any thought he had of being embarrassed was gone now and he undid his jeans with slightly shaking hands. Steve kept his expression even but again, for even that split second, memories of their shared nights flited through his mind. 

With hands braced on Steve’s shoulders, Bucky stepped into the sweatpants Steve held up for him. Once he was fully clothed and cleaner than he had been in several weeks, he had to admit he was feeling much better now, at least physically. Granted, he was tired as all hell.

After helping Bucky sit back down on the bed, Steve quickly cleaned up the things he’d gathered from the bathroom and made a mental note to wash Bucky’s clothes in the morning. Or, later today, as it turned out. The sky was just starting to show hints of turning pink.

“I can sleep on the couch, you can sleep in here. Is that okay with you?” He asked quietly, although he didn’t really think he’d be sleeping too much. 

Bucky looked up at Steve and then glanced around the room a little like he was unsure. The struggle going on in his mind was easily readable, especially to Steve. Years of memorizing even the smallest details of a person's face will have that effect. But Steve was patient, wanting to give Bucky any opportunities he could find to make his own choices. Obviously Steve didn’t know a fraction of the horrors Bucky had endured, but it didn’t take a genius to guess that Bucky didn’t have too many chances to make up his own mind on things.

The silence stretched on for a few more tense minutes, Steve not moving. He didn’t want to do anything to make Bucky nervous. And Bucky continued to glance between his own feet and Steve’s face, wrestling with his own thoughts. 

“Stay.” The single word was raspy and quiet, but it came from Bucky nonetheless. He didn’t want to be alone. Or rather, didn’t want to be away from Steve.

“I can do that, pal.” Steve said quietly, smiling softly at him. His appearance was soft and gentle but on the inside he damn near wanted to scream for joy. He never thought this would happened. Or at least, not like this. He had pictured so many scenarios. The most pleasant were the ones where he got a phonecall from a former SHIELD officer and he was able to pick Bucky up safely. The worst, the ones that woke him up in the middle of the night, the ones where he saw himself finding Bucky’s mangled body in some HYDRA facility.

But this had never crossed his mind. Bucky calling him in the middle of the night had never even registered as a possibility.  And yet, that’s what led to this moment. And for the first time in months, the heavy weight that had seemed to permanently settle in Steve’s chest had lifted. Sure, there was still so much that was unknown. Surely there were people looking for Bucky, good and bad. And Steve was certain that Bucky would need profession help, physical and otherwise. But none of that was more than a passing thought right now.

Again with a soft voice and gentle motions, Steve helped Bucky move to lay against the pillows and cover himself up. His body seemed to melt a little under the warmth of the quilt. Steve smiled to himself as he moved to his side of the bed, carefully crawling in. He left a good couple inches between the two of them. But Bucky was too tired for modesty. And right now everything in his head was screaming for contact. So without a word, he wormed his way across the mattress until he was pressed securely into Steve’s side.

Steve managed to swallow his gasp as he gently wrapped his arms around Bucky. He wondered to himself how long it had been since Bucky got a full night’s sleep because despite being scared and in pain, Bucky fell asleep in minutes. His face relaxed and the gently rising and falling of his chest could be felt against Steve’s body.

Bucky continued to sleep as the room slowly filled with dim early morning light. And although Steve had lived in this apartment for almost a year, it had never felt like home to him until now. 


End file.
